


a first step on the long and dusty road

by Enderon



Series: we're surviving (but not living) [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-15 22:38:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11815605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enderon/pseuds/Enderon
Summary: Looking up at the cold grey stone building before him, the Summer heat on his back and the faint smell of sewage in his nose, Scanlan couldn't help but think back to his last conversation with Dranzel and wonder if he should have listened to him.





	a first step on the long and dusty road

Looking up at the cold grey stone building before him, the Summer heat on his back and the faint smell of sewage in his nose, Scanlan couldn't help but think back to his last conversation with Dranzel and wonder if he should have listened to him.

The last time he and the half-orc had spoken was somewhere close to two weeks ago. They had been in a dingy little dive bar just on the outskirts of Emon, the kind where the lights are just a bit too dark to actually be called useful and every surface was either wood or covered in uncomfortable leather. The beer was shitty and the basket of french fries between them was burnt, but it had a certain charm to it that Scanlan appreciated, a simplicity that he hadn't really experienced since back when they had first started out. It made him feel comfortable, and the little sentimental part of his tiny little gnomish heart had been touched.

Dranzel had picked the place.

Dranzel had known.

He had been very grateful.

"Don't get me wrong," as he stood there on the sidewalk, the half-orc's thick accent came so easily to his memory, as if he was there beside him now, "I'm all for this, one hundred percent, total support."

"But." Scanlan added, smirking over the rim of his mug in that infuriating way of his.

Dranzel pulled a face.

"But," he continued, "there's really no need for it," he held up a hand, stopping Scanlan from saying what he was about to say, "cause if anyone were to try to give you shit about it, I'd make sure they were out on their asses before they even knew what happened to em."

Scanlan had failed to stifle the smile that pulled over his face at that, taking another sip of the skunk piss beer to try and disguise it. Dranzel was certainly a gruff sort of man, but there was no doubt that he could be loyal as Hell.

Placing the mug back to the already stained table top with a bit of a notable thump, the gnome had to think a bit harder about his next statement. He knew if he didn't put it correctly, then the half-orc would never leave him be, and might not leave the city at all.

And for Scanlan, that couldn't happen.

"That's very sweet of you to say," his tone was a mocking one as he gave Dranzel a smarmy smirk, laughing a little bit at the annoyed look the half-orc pulled, "But I made my choice, and I'm sticking with it."

Seeing the glint in his companion's eyes, Scanlan looked down at the golden reflection in his beer.

"I need to do this Dra, I really do. It's already been so long coming, and after everything that's happened? Everything in me is screaming 'now'."

Back on the sidewalk, back in the heat, back in the sewage stench, and back to the weight of a heavy duffel bag on his shoulder, Scanlan couldn't help but feel that he should have listened to Dranzel, let him talk him out of all of this. Life had been easy, fun, exciting. There were a couple of road bumps along the way but nothing they couldn't handle. It would have just been so much easier to stick with the band and face whatever backlash there might have been with Dranzel at his back, ready to support him through it all.

But when he remembered that night; the lights, the drumming of the base in his ears, the rhythm of the crowd, the pounding that he had initially thought was from the music but instead came from deep within him, the all too familiar face staring up at him from the crowd.

His heart started hammering and his stomach started doing flips, forcing Scanlan to pull himself from the memory. That was why he needed to get out, why he was there, on that sidewalk, in front of the brand new apartment building. That was why he finally needed to take that first step of going off on his own. He'd spent far too long hiding behind Dranzel and the band. He needed to face things for himself.

With all of that in mind, he bounced his shoulder, moving the bag just a little further up and just a little more secure, before walking forward.

Due to his very short legs, it took him quite a few steps to make it up the stairway and into the building. Inside looked just like the outside; grey, boring, new. Nothing all that notable except for the weird, musty smell that lingered throughout. He'd always been under the assumption that new places were't supposed to smell like that, but guessed that when the rent was as cheap as it was that he really didn't have any room to complain. Wasn't like he was going to be spending all of his time in the lobby anyways.

As he walked across the room, his discount sneakers squeaking on the tiled floors, he caught a glimpse of the old landlady out of the corner of his eye, turning to return her friendly wave when they made eye contact. He couldn't remember her name, but figured he'd be learning it soon enough if his quest for work and money went as well as he was expecting.

Making somewhat quick work of the lobby's distance, at least for his height, he made it just in time for the elevator to let out a nice tinny ding and open it's shiny new doors. A dark skinned human stepped out, looking down at Scanlan with curious but mistrusting eyes. Scanlan faced ahead, ignoring the look.

As a gnome, he'd gotten quite used to those sorts of looks.

He didn't turn back around until he heard the sound of the doors closing together, spinning around to quickly punch his finger to the button labeled '3'.

From what he'd been told when he came in asking about the available apartment, he would be one of only five tenants in the entire six story building. The depressingly small number of occupants could easily be put down to how new the place was, but Scanlan knew it was really the location that was doing wonders for the population. The building was situated just on the outskirts of Emon, just on the edge of the seedy, crime filled low town area. The location was also why the rent was so low, and the low price of the rent was the only reason Scanlan was able to be there.

So, it was yet just another thing he really had no room to complain about.

It certainly was great to live in a world where he was forced into being grateful for such things.

He quickly spilled out of the elevator as soon as the doors opened, walking briskly to get to his apartment as quickly as possible. He'd been told that he shared the floor with two other tenants and really wasn't feeling like interacting with anyone at the moment.

Thankfully, his apartment was only a few doors from the elevator.

As he dug around in his pockets for the key, he jumped into the air at the sound of a loud bang. Whirling around, he was just in time to catch a glimpse of something blue rushing out of the apartment across the hall, before he was knocked unceremoniously to the floor. Dazed, he lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling and wondering where his life had led him, before shaking off the moment and getting back to his feet.

Making his way inside, he slammed the door shut behind him, and leaned back against it as he looked around his apartment.

It was small, very, very small. One bedroom small, with a very small guest sized bathroom and a minuscule kitchenette. It was also pretty sparsely furnished, the living room begin occupied by a ratty, stained old couch he'd gotten half off at a thrift store and a broken old coffee table he'd found on the side of the road. Add to all of that the weird 'new' smell that permeated the place and the moist chill in the air despite the heat outside, and Scanlan suddenly became all too aware of just how tired he was. Sliding down against the door, his ass hit the cold tile floor and he pulled his knees to his chest. Shoving his face against his knees, he couldn't help the thoughts that wandered into darker and darker places, wondering what he was doing, what got him there, who he thought he was, trying to do this.

He wondered what she would think of him, there, in that dirty apartment, with only a ratty old couch, a broken coffee table, and a duffle bag filled with clothes to his name.

What would she think of him?

But as he sat there, curled in on himself, questioning his life choices, his mind wandered to ……. him.

What would he think? What would he say if he saw Scanlan there, alive, surviving? What would he say if he saw Scanlan there, all by himself, not dropping dead immediately?

Trying to imagine what he would say in this instance, found Scanlan the needed energy to get back to his feet.


End file.
